


Notes

by LilibethSonar



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, dark rituals, dark secrets, i know nothing of the sw lore, if that's your theory know that i love you, inspired by a theory i read on tumblr a few moths ago, there's reylo if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 22:57:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14820527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilibethSonar/pseuds/LilibethSonar
Summary: At the beginning, Kylo Ren had six knights. One died in battle early on. Another Kylo had to kill himself not a year prior. Bado Ren had gone too deep into the Dark Side while on a solo mission. Wasn’t ready. Turned into an empty-eyed husk. Had to be put down like a sick animal.“An unfortunate waste.” Snoke said as Kylo ignited his saber against Bado’s temple, red in the red room. That is not what Snoke had written. Four other knights — for their self-control and growing ability to resist the dark intoxication — are all called failures. Bado is a success.





	Notes

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to SaturniteFeline for betaing. Everything that is messed up I messed up myself. xD
> 
> Please let me know if something specific needs to be tagged. I don't think there's anything triggering...buuut you never know.

The very first thing Kylo Ren feels upon entering his dead master’s personal quarters is the stale smell of illness. The  _ Supremacy’s _ life support systems are failing —  the ginormous ship no longer breathes clean air into Snoke’s rooms, and his silent servants aren’t there to light the incense sticks that would mask the sickly sweet odor of decay with spice. The spacious rooms are filled with rarities, and it feels like every damn thing gives off this smell. Out of the corner of his eye Kylo sees General Hux bring a handkerchief to his nose.

So. It would seem that by killing the old parasite Kylo didn’t change that much after all. Sooner rather than later, Snoke’s own body would’ve ended him just as surely. The irony of this revelation… Kylo’s too tired to think about, let alone be amused by it. The remnants of his master’s —  dead, dead master’s —  darkness cling to the place like a black mold, and Kylo itches to leave and rub his skin with cinders or something, anything, to make sure he hasn’t taken the miasma with him. 

He turns and the Force shifts around him, a whisper of a draft in his hair, a nervous-like tugging in his knees and under his ribs. There’s something in here, something the Force deems important enough to guide him towards. For a second Kylo considers just ignoring it because, oh, at long last it doesn’t leave him blind! But still he follows its flow and finds himself standing at Snoke’s desk. Its mahogany surface is surprisingly worn. There are datapads and books, actual tomes. The Force swivels around them and Kylo touches their covers  – reluctant, yet gentle for those must be ancient  – until there is a telltale tingling in his fingertips. The book he takes from the table is a small one; its binding brown and nameless. The first pages reveal a philosophical treatise Kylo’s vaguely familiar with. For the moment, though, he’s done with cosmic powers and their mysteries  – the book in hand, Kylo strides to the door.

“R—  Supreme Leader!” Hux is hot on his heels. “What will you have us do with…” He gestures around, the handkerchief still in his gloved fingers.

“Salvage the data. The rest is useless.”

“And… the body?”

Kylo pauses, then shrugs. “The Dark side needs no ceremonies. Leave it.”    

 

*

 

He does not return to the book for several months. The Force still tugs at him when he’s around the thing but Kylo has little desire to touch anything of his m—  anything of Snoke’s. And he is tired. Between ungodly amounts of work that is leading the First Order — wherever it is they’re headed; with most of their assets gone, the path to galactic dominance is not so clear — keeping an eye on Hux’s pet coup, and sustaining barriers around his own mind, Kylo is exhausted. 

He’d summoned his knights a while ago, and could probably delegate the matter of Hux to them; the knights would find potential allies of the general faster than the general himself, allowing Kylo to get rid of the traitors before they even talk of treason, in one clean strike. But Kylo doesn’t trust his knights. They very well might strike  _ him _ down. So he juggles the Knights of Ren and General Hux, making sure they’re always close enough to him to observe and control but never close to each other to… whatever, and that is about as much fun as a traditional intergalactic circus (as a kid, he felt sorry for the animals and was bloody terrified of clowns, those loud painted bastards). It’s tiring. 

He could weaken his barriers, too, perhaps not keep them durasteel-strong at all times. The Bond stays dead whenever Kylo risks a mental touch —  and he just can’t help himself, can he? It’s like poking at a bleeding gum —  so there’s no point, really…but he doesn’t weaken them.

Kylo’s days end hours into the night cycle, his body barely his own by the time he gets to bed, his head  _ pulsing _ on too hot a pillow. So, yes, despite the call of the Force, months go by before he opens Snoke’s book. And when he finally does…

…it’s fucking boring.

 

*

 

He has nightmares about the throne room. In reality it is locked, sealed like a tomb, the only untouched hold among the Supremacy’s metal bones. In his dreams, it remains pristine, red drapes moving ever so slightly in time with his heartbeat, and Kylo sits on the throne: young, powerful, silks the color of volcanic gold oh-so-smooth against his skin.

 

*

 

He wakes up screaming, and reaches across the stars before he can stop himself. But the Bond is silent.

 

*

 

The book is likely an original, or, at the very least, an early print of a collection of unoriginal essays about the nature of freedom. It’s interchangeable with dozens of other works, and the most interesting thing about it is its paper. The pages are so fine they hold despite obviously being centuries old. Must be some unique way of manufacturing…

And there are notes. Snoke’s penmanship is dreadful, and it gets shakier with each of his dull thoughts on the book’s dull contents. Reading through it is in equal parts frustrating and perplexing. If the Force had been pushing him towards disillusionment in Snoke’s visionary thinking, well, thanks, he’s gotten there without having to decrypt — Kylo stops and flips back through the pages, and there it is: not a distorted, ugly letter, but a symbol for “Ren” in one of Basic’s archaic fonts that Snoke had favored. Not notes, then. Kylo is not sure whether to think himself smart or stupid.

 

*

 

He used to scratch datapads with his armguards. Now he ruins his wide embroidered sleeves with ink.

The “notes” hide…not a journal, strictly speaking. A series of observations, rather, made over the years, regarding the Knights of Ren. Mostly they describe the Knights’ progress in descending into the Dark Side. Details are sparse, and at first Kylo can’t quite understand why hide it at all.

 

*

 

Skywalker’s betrayal unleashed the darkness. Padawans’ minds weren’t ready —  they got drunk on it, turned against each other. Six left standing. They fled with the boy who would become Kylo Ren. 

 

*

 

At the beginning, Kylo Ren had six knights. One died in battle early on. Another Kylo had to kill himself not a year prior. Bado Ren had gone too deep into the Dark Side while on a solo mission. Wasn’t ready. Turned into an empty-eyed husk. Had to be put down like a sick animal.

“An unfortunate waste.” Snoke said as Kylo ignited his saber against Bado’s temple, red in the red room. That is not what Snoke had written. Four other knights — for their self-control and growing ability to resist the dark intoxication — are all called failures. Bado is a success. 

 

_ “ _ _ The Ferventian catalyst proved to be effective. The truest way, indeed.” _

 

Way of what? Kylo huffs. At least “Ferventian” is no mystery; the boy who would become Bado was born on Fervent-5, a shabby, inconsequential moon. So, what was there?

Bado’s mother.

For a few minutes Kylo doesn’t move. He breathes very slowly and has to steady his hands before he touches the book again.

 

_ “Though the nature of the catalyst is the same, the reaction is far from desirable.” _

 

_ “Time is of essence, I need to proceed to the place. Scratch the family. Try the girl.” _

 

*

 

Kylo is dumbstruck. It makes no sense, none of it. There are easier ways to turn a person into a drooling, breathing corpse. Why drown Kylo and the rest in the Dark Side if he just needed…bodies? Something’s missing.  _ He’s _ missing something. There must be another level to the encryption, or he figured out the pattern wrongly, or… 

The smells of spice and nearing death lift from the book and clog Kylo’s nose, soak into his ink-stained fingertips. Suddenly he’s so tired again, his shoulders and neck stiff. 

 

_ The Supreme Leader is wise. _

 

And dead, he’s dead, Kylo killed him. What use has he for the dead man’s secrets? Yet the Force is tugging at him still, a bit of lead in his nape, a whisper inside his head in a voice that is his own but not quite. “The map.”

Snoke’s personal map of the known galaxy, the one transferred onto Kylo’s computer along with all the other data from the late Supreme Leader’s machines, illuminates the room. Its faint blue glow makes Kylo’s eye twitch. Even if whatever it is he’s seeking is not buried ass-deep in the map’s code, there still is a whole fucking galaxy to look through. Talk about hiding things. It is possible, though…

No. Too convenient. Too easy. 

 

_ The Supreme Leader is wise.    _

 

But the book  _ was _ on his table. Hidden in plain sight. Holding his breath, Kylo pulls up the map’s memory and checks for points of synchronization with the navigational system of Snoke’s personal shuttle. In recent years, his master hadn’t left the  _ Supremacy _ often, but when he did he travelled to an unnamed planet on the very edge of the Outer Rim. Kylo lets out a short, breathless laugh. It could be nothing, or a part of something else entirely, but it all he has. The Force smiles upon him.

Or sneers. 

 

*

 

He only takes stormtroopers, making sure they aren’t Force-sensitive. If they find what Kylo thinks they’ll find, he doesn’t need cognizant witnesses. 

The planet looks barren, with land covered in grey dust and turbid rivers. Coordinates from Snoke’s shuttle lead them to a secluded valley overgrown with dry, bone-white shrubbery, its thin branches grabbing and pulling Kylo’s rich robes. He guessed correctly  – there’s a Sith temple in the middle of the valley, an ancient one. There’s no electric hum coming from the low clay walls, and the building seems too small to hide any elaborate mechanical traps. There’s no door, for Force’s sake! 

Yet the darkness here is tangible. Kylo can almost  _ taste _ it, metallic and cold. He can barely move his tongue, but it’s too late to turn back, has been too late since he first touched the book. Gesturing to the ‘troopers to stay alert, Kylo slowly steps inside.

Carved in clay, there are primitive images depicting a master and an apprentice. Here the master gifts the apprentice with knowledge. Here the apprentice rips his own heart out and is lost in a forest of erratic lines — a metaphor for losing one’s self to the dark side, Kylo supposes. The apprentice emerges in a form of a stick-figure, and this is what happened to Bado. The master approaches the husk of the apprentice. 

Here of all places, why does it smell of illness and spice? 

The master steps inside the stick-figure.

On the last carving the figure of the master is nowhere to be seen. The apprentice stands in its place, whole once again. Young. Powerful. 

Kylo smirks, then starts laughing. How… _unfortunate_ for Snoke. To come so close to stealing Kylo’s _fucking body_ — and get his own cut in halves in process. An absurd image of Snoke huffing and puffing while dragging Kylo’s drooling remnants to the temple comes to mind and he laughs even harder. The ‘troopers outside are probably thinking he finally lost it. 

Hard to breathe. The smell. Don’t throw up.

If this place is essential for the ritual to work, it sure is inconvenient. Kylo can’t imagine Snoke wasting energy on moving him with the Force. Bado wasn’t able to stand…

And Kylo came here on his own two like a loyal apprentice. But he didn’t kill his heart; he’s not an empty shell. He is Kylo Ren. He is Ben. The Force just wanted him to know. 

 

The Force

 

guided him here

 

right?

**Author's Note:**

> So, as I say in the tags this story is based on a theory from tumblr. I don't remember whose theory it was but I love it, obviously, so if you recognize it do tell me the name of the OP or even send me a link, it'd be really cool. Oh, and if you liked the story... *wink wink*


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